For French onion garlic and potato soup, cook the onions until they are caramelized. / By Michael Clevenger, The Courier-Journal

For Atlanta chef Scott Peacock’s breakfast shrimp, the onions only need to be cooked to the translucent or golden stage. / By Michael Clevenger, The Courier-Journal

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Beginners in any endeavor need a "first skill" — a logical starting point that provides a hands-on foundation and an inspiring quick payoff early in their studies.

Preschoolers start by learning the ABC song, and before you know it, they've memorized the whole alphabet. Many first-time guitar players gravitate somewhat mysteriously to the opening riff of Deep Purple's classic-rock chestnut "Smoke on the Water." After an afternoon of practice, they've got something to show their friends and a quick jolt of self-confidence.

For some confusing reason, cooks usually start off their hands-on education by boiling water. (In earlier generations, the greenhorn's goal was a boiled egg; modern novices now start off preparing ramen noodles or other pasta-like devices.)

I'd suggest that a better place to start cooking is with the omnipresent (and ogre-friendly) onion. Learn the basics of this shelf-stable aromatic vegetable, and you've stepped into a new culinary world.

Besides, your kitchen will smell better, your friends will drift over to the stove more often, and you'll master a crucial cooking skill after just a few tries.

Enter the onion

Pick up any cookbook, page over to the entrees section, and odds are you'll see a lot of onions in the ingredient lists. Soups, stews, roasts, casseroles and vegetable dishes all call on the fist-sized aromatic bulb to lend some savor to the finished product.

French cuisine presses the onion into service as part of its three-vegetable base called mirepoix. Cajun cooks combine it with bell pepper and celery as the Louisiana tradition's oft-used "Holy Trinity."

So it makes good sense to start building your skill set with this time-tested classic. Learn how to "cook down" an onion, and you've nailed the first step of smothering a chicken, creating a versatile pot of pasta sauce or perfecting a pot of garlic-spiked Texas chili.

In its raw state, an everyday cooking onion — Spanish, yellow, white — has its acidic, sharp flavors, those chemical compounds that can add flavor and tang in small amounts or overwhelm your sinuses in heftier doses.

Take a whiff of the cut side — just once. You can smell the acids, the bright aromas, those things that in about 30 seconds would cause your eyes to water and nose to run just a bit.

A little sweaty science

You can "cook down" an onion in one of two ways — with a low-heat method called sweating, and a higher-heat technique called the sauté.

Both involve the same equipment — one thinly sliced onion, some olive oil, a skillet and one stovetop burner. Couldn't be simpler. Put the onion slices into the skillet, drizzle them with oil, and crank up the heat to medium. Now wait for a few minutes.

While the onions start to sizzle, we'll review two tiny bits of science — from grade school no less — that will help you understand this particular process.

First, try to remember the diagram of a plant cell from fourth-grade biology. Imagine that the onion is made up of a zillion cells, each one a tiny water-filled sack surrounded by a cell wall.

Second, think back to your first science class — water boils at 212 degrees and turns to steam. When that happens, steam expands.

Perfect. Now back to the skillet.

After a few minutes, intense heat from the stove spreads through the pan (dense metal) and cooking oil (viscous liquid) to the onions. Since the onion cells are essentially sacks of juice, the water heats up to a boil, expands and, poof, explodes and lets all the juice seep into the skillet.

When you hear the sizzle, that's what's happening. When you smell the wonderful aroma of onions wafting from the pan, it's the juices boiling in the oil and filling your kitchen in the form of fragrant steam. (If you're cooking for friends, that's the stuff that will make your guests oooh and ahhhh when they arrive. Few things make a house smell better than cooked onions.)

The four phases

Since we started cooking over a low fire, this is considered a sweat — and relatively slow-cooking way of coaxing the flavor from the raw onion without allowing the solid parts to brown too much. If we started with a hot pan and high heat, we'd be doing a sauté — essentially a quicker version of the same process.

Whether your recipe calls for a slow sweat or a fast sauté, your onions go through the same stages of doneness. (Think of them as the equivalent of rare, medium and well-done in the steak world.) The longer your onions stay on the heat, the more they change. After a few minutes on the stove, they reach the first cooked stage — called "translucent." As the juices start to steam out, the onion slices start to go limp as their cell walls break down.

Add more time and the limp onions start to change color — first to a pale yellow (golden), a light tan (browned) and eventually to a deep, mahogany brown (caramelized). In this process, the juices and sugars inside the onion start to cook, getting mellower and sweeter with every shade of brown.

Most recipes, including our 15-minute marinara and Atlanta chef Scott Peacock's breakfast shrimp, call for onions at the "translucent" or "golden" stage, just enough to take the sharp edge off the onions. Other dishes, such as our simple French onion soup, require hitting those darker caramelized shades.

Consider these dishes a savory starting point for your cooking career. Once you're comfortable with this simple sizzling skill, you're well on your way to being confident in your own kitchen.

Heat butter in a heavy 12-inch skillet over medium heat until the butter melts and foams, then cook onions with scallion, garlic, salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Stir occasionall until softened but not browned (about 5 minutes). Add shrimp and cook for about 1 minute. Add 1/2 cup water and simmer gently, stirring until shrimp are just cooked through, 2 to 3 minutes (shrimp should be floating in light sauce; add more water if necessary). Season and serve immediately on top of white rice or grits.

In a heavy bottomed pot or skillet, sauté onions over medium-high heat until translucent. Add garlic and stir for one minute. Add salt and pepper and lower heat to medium. When the onions go completely limp, cover pan and check occasionally as mixture browns. Check the sauté every few minutes, making sure to scrape the bottom to prevent burning. When mixture has reached a medium shade of brown (about 30 minutes), transfer caramelized mixture to soup pot and add water. Bring the broth to a simmer, then add potatoes and carrots and cook until vegetables are tender. Serve with grated Gruyere or Cheddar cheese and crusty bread.

Heat medium saucepan for about a minute on high/medium heat. Add olive oil, then garlic and onion and sauté until onions are clear. Sprinkle in a little salt and pepper (amount: your call). Add green peppers and sauté for a few minutes more. Add optional vegetables in batches and sauté some more, letting each cook through while stirring every 30 seconds or so.

When the vegetables look cooked (but still crunchy), pour in tomatoes and liquid from the can. (Check the consistency. You may have to thin it a bit by adding a splash of wine or water.) Lower the heat to medium, and bring the mixture up to a slow simmer. Add bay leaf and sage. Cover and cook for about 7 minutes, then uncover and add remaining dried herbs (basil, oregano, and parsley) after first crushing them in your palms to release the essential oils.

Lower heat to medium/low and let the sauce simmer uncovered for about five minutes. Stir occasionally and let the whole thing thicken up a bit. Before serving, double-check the spices (especially salt and pepper) and adjust to taste.